


What we fight for

by sora_grimshaw



Category: Inception (2010), James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Action, BAMF Arthur, BAMF Q, Crossover, Death, Different take on Inception, Different take on Skyfalls, Eames is 006, M/M, More tags would be added later, Pyschological, Sly Eames, Spy - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, Torture, Very smart Bond, Violent, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-26 18:33:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5015587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sora_grimshaw/pseuds/sora_grimshaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a war between Humans and those who are called Enhanced Human. Neither did Robert or Arthur want to be part of it, but it seem like they have no choice. But what exactly are they going to fight for?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Do we have a deal?

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [He Calls Himself the Quartermaster](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092329) by [Only_1_Truth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Only_1_Truth/pseuds/Only_1_Truth). 



> Cross over with Eames as 006, I just love both of these OTP which is why this exist haha. Of course Q real name here is Robert Frobisher, and their power or mostly James and Q powers were inspired by Only_1_Truth’s fic ‘He calls himself the Quartermaster.” If you haven’t read the fic I suggest you do, because the fic is fantastic, and all others of this author works too. Like ‘No rest for the wingless’ or ‘Why Sky Fall’. In fact read all of Only_1_Truth work, they are amazing, I love them all ☺ 
> 
> Comments and kudos would be awesome ^^ Thank you for reading :P

If Robert had to be entirely honest, he wouldn’t say that employing the series of what were they called again by the whole world? Ah, enhanced human, EH for short, as professional killer with a licence probably a good idea. In fact when all of psychotic. But at the same time if he had to be honest, he had no idea why he was on the net walking through MI6 system. Something about the organisation made Robert felt intrigued. Part of it was that the system was poorly guard making it too easy. Also he wanted to keep an eye on the EH rouge organisation that had been waging war with England for past few weeks.

 

 

 

“Don’t you have better thing to do than hacking into MI6?” The voice behind him startled Robert but other than that the male didn’t move from his seat. He knew exactly who was behind him. After all there only one person who knew of this place.

 

“Arthur, be an angel and make me a cup of tea will you?” He didn’t even answer his cousin question, instead he waved his hand left to right shooing his cousin to the kitchen instead.

 

“No, you already have two pots already. Will you stop hacking into the government? The type of government of which is hunting our kind?”

 

 

 

Arthur walked up to Robert, pulled out a chair next to him staring at the sequence of ones and zeros, eyes rolling. His hand lingered on Robert’s shoulder, watching his cousin typed away on the keyboards. He didn’t agree to come to England while it was still at war between humans and EH. If anything he wanted nothing more than dragging Robert back with him to USA, at least in America it was safer for EHs. But bloody Robert had to be extremely loyal to the Queen.

 

 

 

“MI6 doesn't hunt us, they hunt the EH that gone rogue.” Robert argued only to face with another eye rolling from Arthur.

 

“And put other EH on close watch.” His words dripped in sarcasms, ‘close watch’ it just another word for tagged and observed. Suddenly Robert tensed, immediately Arthur became alerted. He looked at the screen and in front of him building burst out in flames. However before Arthur could say anything the images dissolve and the whole screen turned black and giant bold and capitalised words flashing on the screen. “Think on your sin”.

 

“Robert, What have you done?”

 

“This is not me, this attack was on MI6 by the EH Rouge organisation. I’m just still on their server. Hold on.”

 

 

 

The curly hair male quickly dismissed Arthur, hands still typing away. He had no time to answer his cousin; he needed to deflect the next wave. He could feel it coming; he might not be fast enough to end the wave. The codes reveal a list of names of undercover agents in several countries. If this was revealed all the agents would be compromised, Robert was not a fan of humans in general but he wasn’t cruel either. He wouldn’t let those men and women who were loyal to Queen died because of some cyber attack. He couldn’t stop the list being up on the list but he could very well deflect it, keeping in only in MI6 sever door and who ever was operating it.

 

 

His eyes sparkled a blue electrical colour, the veins shone bright and quickly Arthur stepped back. He knew better than to touch his cousin when his mind was up in the Net.

 

 

Net was a delicate place.

 

 

 

A dangerous place.

 

 

 

But they were Q’s territory.

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

“Get me contact with the agents, I want them to be extracted back to England NOW.”

 

 

M roared into her phone inside her office, a fear rushed through her. She wasn’t going to let her agents died in vain because of one failed mission earlier. If only Boothroyd was still alive, contact would be easier. Tanner walked into the room with a tablet in his hand. He pushed the tablet in front of her quickly reports.

 

 

 

 

“This is the list of all agents that was posted.”

 

“How many are exposed all together?” The glass of wine felt tightened in her hand. She silenced herself, waited to hear the answer from Tanner. The number of the agents she had let down. Those who had lost their lives because of her mistake. However the answer stunned her:

 

“None, ma’am”

 

“What do you mean?” M queried. 

 

“Somebody hacked into our system or more precisely all the system available and created a virtual stream of coding that limit the publicity of the agent’s name list to only our server.”

 

“Did you manage to track down whoever did it?”

 

 

 

 

 Tanner nodded reluctantly, finger pressed down to some button on the tablet before showing it to his boss again. M looked at the tablet of which had been switched to another website and she could read it out loud. This, this was the person who help them prevent the death of MI6 agents, this person?

 

 

On the tablet was a website, big bold letters of what seemingly like a normal amateur website about music. Written quite clear on the title of the website: “Marques Ratter’s Sextet”. There must be something behind this music and art lover website.

 

 

 

“What else did you manange to find about this ‘Marques Ratter’?” Somehow M believed it couldn’t be a real name. Tanner in front of her let out an exasperation breath.

 

“Nothing ma’am. Every search comes up blank. But we manage to create a short conversation with Marques through the email address provided on the website.

 

 

 

M noticed at the corner of the website was an email address. ‘MR@sextet.com’, sound liked bollock to her but nonetheless she motioned for Tanner to continue. Tanner nodded, he scrolled the tablet up to open up the text application so that M could directly talk to this mysterious hacker.

 

 

 

 

“How did you do it?” Normally M would ask with amount of subtleness in her wording. But considering the dire situation they were in, subtleness could be damned.

 

“ _It was child play, you really should do something about your system. It’s pathetic.”_

 

 

M hissed, this definitely the words of a genius. If anything she knew about genius were that they were incredibly condescending and highly anti-social.

 

 

 

“I’m assuming that you will help us? Yes or No? ” She typed in, they didn’t really have much time. She quickly cut to the chase and directly asked this hacker to confirm if Marques would be their enemy or ally. M hoped it would be the latter.

 

_“Only against the EH rogues.”_

 

 

 

M stopped typing, few thought rushed through her brain. Marques had mentioned EH, did this mean that the hacker was human? Or was he a neutral EH in this battle?  Before she could answer back, a new message formed in front of her.

 

 

 

_“I wish to be left alone after this. I will help you, but mark this I’m neither your ally nor I am your enemy. It just happens this time we have a common enemy. First off I know that the bomb not only took out part of Q-branch but also most of your Amory’s storage. I’ll provide you guys with new weapons. Time and place will be send by me later.”_

“How can we trust you?” Was the only thing she could say, she was sure at least 80% that this hacker was an EH. M had no problem with EH, since two of her double-oh agents were EHs themselves. However they were hand picked and trained by her so she knew she had their ultimate loyalty. Other EHs she didn’t say they were dangerous but until she could confirm whether or not they were a threat to England. It best to be cautious.

_“I guess you just have to. Do we have a deal?”_

 

Sighing in resigned she turned her head to Tanner.

 

“Which one out of the two of them are still in England?”

 

“006 is still in America and 007 should be back in England in ten hours.” Tanner replied, he knew what M wanted to do. If they were to seek help from an EH, it best to send an EH agent rather than a human one.

 

“Contact 007 immediately, tell him to skip the debrief and prepare for another mission.”

 

“Yes Ma’am.”

 

The chief of staff bowed slightly to M before turning around to deliver the mission he was given. On the current conversation beneath the newly received message was her reply.

 

“I believe we do.”

 

 

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

 

 

“ARE YOU INSANE? YOU WANT TO WORK WITH MI6?” Arthur yelled out at his insane cousin, after watching Robert’s conversation with British’s last line of defence.

  
“Arthur, we have to help them. You don’t want to be hunted down by the rouge, especially when both of us just want to have a peaceful life with no quarrel to the human.”

 

 

 

 

Robert explained calmly as he pulled out his glasses and sent them next to the keyboard. He ruffled the wild and untamed mess of a hair on his head, hoping his cousin would agree with him. Since what he about to ask Arthur would not pan out if his cousin wasn’t on board with him.

 

 

 

 

“This is why I said we should move to America. Come on Robert I have friends there. Friends that would help us.” Arthur shook his head, desperately trying to convince his stubborn cousin. Who just shook his head in reply.

 

“This is my home, _our_ home. Please Arthur.” Seeing the pleading look on Robert’s face, Arthur’s face twisted with annoyance. He should have known the moment he set his foot back into England his cousin would be the death of him. Sighing in defeat, he heard his cousin squealed in delight, the boffin even clapped his hand.

 

“Great because I have a major favour that I need your help.”

 

 

 

The slightly older English born American raised his eyebrow at the male in front of him. The mysterious gleam mix with guilt in green eyes irked Arthur’s skin. Oh no, oh no, he knew that look. That planning look, and for that second he cursed the fact that he had forgotten that his cousin, the genius with an IQ surpassed Einstein beside aviophobia also had anthropophobia. And from the previous conversation it wasn’t hard to deduct.

 

 

 

 

“Robert, they kill EH for a living.” Arthur shook his head violently.

 

“No they don’t only bad ones, and you’re not one. Beside we had a deal.” Robert flicked his hand like it was no big deal earning a rolling eyes in horror from his cousin.

 

“Robert, I’m a fucking American.”

 

“Arthur, you were born in Arkley.” Robert rolled his eyes at the obvious fact.

 

“I grew up cheering Mets and eating s’more for fuck sake.” Arthur couldn’t help but trying to point out the most obvious thing to his cousin, who still looked like it was no big deal. Like how MI6 would most likely should him on sight the moment he opened his mouth. Arthur couldn’t remember how to speak English accent, more like he had disregard that accent years ago. 

 

“Oh relax Arthur. British’s soil is a safe haven for most nationality.”

 

 

 

Arthur couldn’t help but felt like his cousin was mocking him. 


	2. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James meets Arthur. Arthur is relieved that 007 didn't shoot him on spot.

007 would probably tell M that she was absolutely crazy for thinking that some anonymous EH would be able to help them. Why would EH help them? When MI6 was practically dog tagging all of them, even him and 006 had to keep the fact that they were EH a secret among MI6. To be honest, they probably wouldn’t serve England if it weren’t because M was the closest thing to a maternal figure to the both of them. That would also be why he was at the National Museum sitting in front of an old painting waiting for this mysterious contact.

 

 

His hand itched to kill somebody, preferably the EH rouge leader. The leader who ordered the attack on MI6. Just wait until he got his hand on he or she. One thing for sure it ain’t going to end pretty. He pondered about his contact, if this particular EH proved to be helpful, small trip down the art memory lane was worth it. After the bomb also took out the R&D building along with most of their weaponry and technology, they really did need help. Some of the weapon didn’t even work on EHs, it would be very suspicious if all of sudden only him and 006 could kill EHs. 007 felt his body twitched uncomfortably, he waited, and waited yet there was nobody. Until a young man came up to him, sat down next to him. His eyes never left the painting; it made 007 wondered whether or not this was the so call ‘Marques Ratter’.

 

 

“It always makes me feel a bit melancholy.”

 

 

An eyebrow hoisted on 007’s face, the young man next to him looked a bit older than a university art student. He probably was a PA or something. Nonetheless, a huffed of annoyance left his lung, as he wished for this ‘PA’ to finished his rambling and leave so he could meet up with Marques. Since this couldn’t be his contact, this man was an American. Now, why would American wanted anything to do with Britain’s civil war? He sat there in silence waiting for the young American to finish with his monologue.

 

 

“Grand old war ship. being ignominiously haunted away to scrap... The inevitability of time, don't you think? What do you see?”

 

“A bloody big ship. Excuse me.”

 

 

He stood up, perhaps he should make a beeline around the area. Came back when the American had left the bench so that he could meet his contact who ever his contact was. But the voice persuaded him to stay, the next words that came out of the young American’s mouth surprised him.

 

“007, I’m your contact.”

 

“You must be joking.”

 

 

007 sat back down on the bench? What was this? Did this mean Britain had come to her wit end and needed help from the American? He heard voices from his earpiece, as confused as him.

 

 

 

 _///“Marques Ratter is an American? Is this a trick from the FBI or CIA?”///_ Tanner voice echoed in his ears, 007 couldn’t help but agree. It seemed that the male next to him know what he was thinking immediately supply him with an answer.

 

 

 

“I’m not a part of CIA or FBI. If you must know, my mother is English. I was born here. Just raised in America.”

 

“Why aren’t you helping America then? I’m sure they are having quite a time over there.”

 

007 voiced out his query, if his voice carried an ounce of threat in them then Marques just had to suck it up. His hand had already twitched ready to engage in a hand in hand combat. Even though Marques looked pretty strong despite his slim figure but 007 was sure he could take him down. Beside him being the undead was pretty helpful too.

 

 

 

“Oh, this is not my idea. I’m not even the guy you’re looking for. I’m just the messenger. And what was the saying? Don’t shoot the messenger bro.” Marques or not Marques raised up his hand gesturing his point. 007 didn’t care if the younger male in front of him born in England or not, he was definitely an American.

 

“And why wouldn’t Marques come out himself then?”

 

 

 

There was still suspiciousness in his dark tone. He didn’t really liked to interact non – British about Her Majesty’s own civil war.

 

 

 

“Anthropophobia.” The other guy shrugged.

 

 

 

The quick responded stunned 007, his shoulder slouched slightly .

 

 

 

“You’re telling me that Marques, the person who declared to ‘help MI6 defeat EH rouge’ is afraid of interacting with other people?” 007 said, sarcasm dripping in his voice. He also air quoted his word to make it sound even more sarcastic, evidently turning him into an ass in front of the young American.

 

“Look man, he was born that way. Beside why did you keep on calling him Marques?” 

 

“Isn’t it his name?” 007 asked back, he had his doubt about his contact name, nobody would make their name the title of their website if they were EH then hacked into MI6.

 

“Is 007 your name?” The American smirked. 007 quickly realised,  ‘Marques Ratter’ wasn’t a name. ‘Marques Ratter’ was like 007, a designation. He would ask more if it wasn’t for the sudden hissed from the American that wasn’t directed at him. Immediately 007 kept quiet, listening to the conversation between the American and his real contact.

 

 

“I know, I know. Look it’s not my fault. Somebody had to break the ice. Your way of doing it was terrible. I already tell you that MI6 professional assassins don’t enjoy mundane things like art.”

 

 

This surprisingly made 007 felt more comfortable with the man. He called 007 ‘assassin’ and other mundane things. It obviously showed that he was more American than his claim to be British born. So that lovely art comment was from his contact, in other word this American when he said he was a messenger, he really was a messenger. A literal one, word to word too. But he also noticed how the younger male relaxed after their short lived conversation. It appeared that he was relieved 007 didn’t decide to kill him on spot because he was more American than British. The thought did cross 007’s mind, but he wasn’t that stupid. Watching the young man relaxed enough to talk to the real ‘Marques’ in front of him amused him slightly.

 

 

 

“Alright, alright.” The man sighed before pulling out from his side pocket a small box and gave it to 007. The agent took it, hand caressed the shiny metal before opened it. The American turned his gaze back at the painting explaining the equipment.

 

“The Walther PPK/S nine-millimeter short. The bullet also been altered, it contain a chemical compound that can neutralise EH up to eight hours. And next to it is the blue print of the gun so you guys can produce more. The gun I’m giving you here have been coded to your palmprint so only you can fire it .Less of a random killing machine, more of a personal statement.” The last line sound a bit poetic and forced, 007 took a wild guess and said:

 

“Is that what he tell you? And how the hell did he manage to get my palmprint?”

 

 

This made the younger male barked out a laugh before turning his head to the agent smirking:

 

 

“He hacked in MI6 with ease and you are surprised about how he got your palmprint, 007?”

 

“I suppose not, should I ask for your name or are you going to give me another designation?”

 

“Blake.”

 

 

 

A squint in the male’s eyes, suggested that Blake was telling the truth about his name. Since obviously ‘Marques’ was screeching in the earpiece, possibly yelling at Blake for telling 007 his name. He should return the favour.

 

“James. James Bond.” He reached out for a shake. When Blake returned it, James asked another question.

 

“How do we contact you or him again? As far as I know the email terminated itself after ‘Marques’ informed us of the location.”

 

“I’m sure he has already leave you clue. Well then good luck 007, oh and he asked me to tell you that please don’t break the gun that he worked hard to design and make.”

 

“Then he hadn’t met me.” James chuckled.

 

 

 

James contemplated on whether or not he should follow Blake but decided against it. Something told him that follow Blake wouldn’t work, the male would probably knew that he would be following anyway. So he stood up and did what he should do, returned to MI6 to give M the blue print. The gun on the other hand was obviously rightfully his. Tugging the gun into his holster, he wondered about the mysterious genius behind this beautiful gun he was holding. A small mutter left his mouth as he walked in the opposite direction from Blake.

 

“Brave New World.”

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

 

“Did he try to follow?”

 

_///“No, you’re clear. And would tell me why the hell did you tell that name?”///_

Arthur rolled his eyes, wasn’t this his cousin idea? Beside it not like they would be able to find anything on Blake anyway. Anything worth looked into to be precise. Hand into his pocket he strolled down the street of London with his hoodie on. 

 

 

 

“Blake is me.”

 

 

 

He replied nonchalantly and kept on walking. Arthur walked down the tube, caught a train toward somewhere slightly outskirt of town. However before he could walk into the farm, his phone rang. Picking up the phone he didn’t need to look at the caller ID to know who called. Only one person would be bother calling this number, but then again only one person knew this number.

 

 

 

“Hello Dom.”

 

“Arthur, are you okay? We saw the explosion.” Dom’s worried tone echoed through the phone instantly made Arthur smiled. Dom never stopped worrying about other. But then again that why Mal fell in love with him in the first place.

 

“Which happened far from where I was staying. So I’m fine Dom.” Arthur replied, he didn’t walk into the farm. Instead he closed the gate, leaned his body on it.

 

It was his way of telling Robert that this was his private personal matter. So that his cousin won’t be a worrywart and tapped in his phone conversation almost every single time he picked up a call when he was within 5 metres radius from Robert.

 

 

 

 

“Thank god, when are you coming back? Mal and the kids miss you a lot. “ There was a longing in Dom’s voice, Arthur could almost see Mal’s sulking complaining about his disappearance from their life in Brooklyn.

 

“Not yet. Something comes up with…Q. I have to stay back to help him out.”

 

 

 

In the background, he heard Mal swearing in French. Silently he thanked those extra French class, his father forced him to. It was horrid, but it paid out. Since at this moment he could understand every words Mal was saying while Dom tried to sooth her. He heard her swearing about his cousin, who didn’t even let Arthur tell them real name. Or how much of an arrogant prick Robert was as to picking Q as his alias because there was only so much words or names you could think of with the letter Q. Most of all Mal was complaining how Q was stealing Arthur from her and Dom. It made Arthur’s stomach fluttered with happiness, he missed them. They were his family and that was why he here. Robert was also his family. 

 

 

 

“Mal, I’m all he got left. I can’t leave.”

 

“You will come back right?”

 

 

Arthur was going to say yes, but suddenly the meeting with James popped back into his mind. Robert and him were helping MI6 in a war with EHs, even if Robert thought that he was just side-lining with the human because what the rouge EHs were doing were disgusting it didn't change the fact that they had entered the war. War always ended with casualties. Flashed images of Q being held up, tortured, dead, and him as well rushed through him.

 

 

 

“Arthur?” Dom asked, worried embedded in his voice. It cut Arthur off his thought completely. He blinked, and the sawdust images temporarily vanished.

 

“Yea, yeah. I’m coming back.”

 

 

Somehow the words sounded liked lies in Arthur’s throat.

 

 

 

 

“You better.” That was Mal’s word and Arthur heard footsteps walking away from the phone. He also heard echoed of Phillipa and James’s voice, it made his longing for Brooklyn even more dreadful.

 

“Take care of yourself, you hear me Arthur?” Dom said, his overbearing worried of which borderline paternal made his eyes rolled. He chuckled:

 

“I will. Talked to you later.”

 

 

 

 

He hanged up the phone call and walked into the farm. From the outside it looked like a small farm. But closely resemble a holiday lodge. Whistling a nameless tune, Arthur casually push his key into the door knob opened the old wooden door before walking it. He called out:

 

 

 

 

“Honey, I’m home.”

 

“Welcome home darling, I’m just in the kitchen”

                                                                                                                     

 

 

 

It made Arthur shivered every time he heard that  voice, he cursed Robert for making his ridiculous security system. As if having to live under the ground wasn't creepy enough, one would have to create a bloody non visage or body system for a butler. He walked straight to the kitchen, once again he cursed Robert for the long security steps and codes to get down to their real’s room.

 

 

Shaking his head as he walked to the coffee machine, brewing himself a cup of coffee before turning around making Robert his tea. After finishing it, Arthur called out again:

 

 

 

“Got your tea, honey.” His grunted at the last words, the fridge moved slightly and small doorway appeared.

 

 

 

The elevator took him straight down. Arthur could think of a few words to describe his caffeine-addicted cousin. Ever since Arthur got here, they never really stayed at the lodge above, they slept down here and pretty much did everything down here. To the point, Arthur started to feel like he could see in the dark much better than bat themselves and sunlight actually blind him.

 

 

 

 

“You really need to do something about that creepy security system of your.” He grumbled, while placing the cup of tea on the table. Robert was sitting on the table, reviewing some of his design.

 

“Don’t insult Mari-Ann.” Was Robert retort.  Arthur’s face turned into mock horror.

 

“Because giving it a name, made it – sorry I mean “Mari-Ann” less creepy.” The system name’s dripped with sarcasm in Arthur’s voice.

 

“Whatever, and it appears that MI6 wasn’t as incompetence as I thought.”

 

“What do you mean?” Arthur raised an eyebrow, taking a sip from his coffee.

 

“Their agent, 007, manage to crack the password I set out for them to open a two way shell box chat that I left in MI6’s system.”

 

“James Bond?” Arthur asked, genuinely surprised. But then again the man did manage to figure out Marques Ratter was really a name.

 

 

Robert nodded. His minded wandered back to the file he managed to dig up about 007. A deathless, EH like him was rare. MI6 wasn’t really fighting a loosing battle after all. This James Bond was indeed interesting, it was the first time Robert listened to another person voice beside his cousin for the past few years and didn’t flinch. Instead he found himself relax into it.

 

 

 

How did that happen, he wasn’t sure but something in Robert was stirring, was longing to hear that voice again.


End file.
